


The Spider's Silk

by magpie_fngrl



Series: Tumblr AU Prompts [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fae, Blow Jobs, Frottage, M/M, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-31 06:21:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13969194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magpie_fngrl/pseuds/magpie_fngrl
Summary: Draco was supposed to take a quick look around, that’s all; not strike conversations with attractive Fae from other Courts, who happened to be wandering alone in the Spring Court’s formal gardens.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a tumblr fill to this ask: anon said: _Fae AU!!!! This is gonna sound weird, but, Fae AU where they’re both High Fae that rule over conflicting seasons (Draco is Summer and Harry is Winter or vice versa)_
> 
> Lots of love and glitter to **LowerEastSide** for the beta!

Draco was supposed to take a quick look around, that’s all; not strike conversations with attractive Fae from other Courts, who happened to be wandering alone in the Spring Court’s formal gardens.

‘You’re not meant to be here, are you?’ said Harry, son of the Summer High Lord, trailing his fingers through the water of a fountain. ‘It’s the Passing of the Flame from Spring to Summer. You aren’t allowed here.’

‘Will you tell on me?’ Draco raised his eyebrow, more daring than he felt, knowing full well he’d be in trouble if his father heard he visited the Spring Court in secret, let alone during the Passing. He’d no idea what had driven him to disobey traditions that spanned a thousand years only so he could finally see the Summer Lords by himself. Draco flexed his wings, trying to suppress a spike of anxiety, and noticed Harry’s eyes sweeping over them, his skin flushing.

‘I could,’ Harry said, dragging his gaze from Draco’s wings and meeting his eyes. ‘But I won’t. Why are you here?’

Draco shrugged. He couldn’t very well say he burned with the desire to see the Summer Fae and their antlers, so different to the green-skinned folk of Spring, or the red-haired Autumn Fae with the long tails. So different to Draco and his family: winged and pale, hair and eyes almost devoid of colour like the snowy slopes of Erebos where the Winter Court stood. In the end, he settled for half a lie: ‘I wanted an adventure.’

That brought a crooked smile on Harry’s face. ‘Have you been to the Spring woods? They’ve the most curious beasts; also, rumours say a tribe of carnivorous Fae hides deep in the forest.’

‘I thought Spring was all dew-covered meadows and wildflowers.’ Draco’s father had portrayed Spring as the most frivolous of all the Courts, desiring ephemeral pleasures and creating nothing of substance.

Harry scoffed. ‘Spoken like someone truly clueless. There’s blood and rot underneath the thriving plants; what do you think makes this realm so fertile?’

Draco didn’t like to be made to feel ignorant. ‘I think you’re full of talk. Ever seen one of these beasts you speak of?’

Harry crossed his arms, the air chilling between them. ‘Some. And if you don’t believe me—’

‘I don’t,’ Draco said.

‘—I can show you.’

Entering the woods at the heels of a Summer Fae (the _basest_ of the Courts, Draco’s father always said) in search of mythical beasts like the Grey Spider or the infamous Horned Fae with the bloody tastes didn’t seem like something Draco would regret. Draco felt little fear; he could hold his own in a fight. The Winter Court wasn’t short of dangerous creatures and he had a good deal of magic in him.

They didn’t speak much as Harry led them deeper into the woods. Pollen drifted from blooming trees on a light breeze that ruffled Harry’s hair, and the smell of wildflowers and moist soil filled the air. That’s what Draco had found different when he’d first crossed the border to Spring: the fragrant air he breathed, heady and intoxicating.

‘How do you know so much about these woods?’ he asked Harry when the silence had stretched thin.

‘My mother’s a Spring Court maiden,’ Harry said, a fact which explained his startling eye colour. ‘I’ve visited often; I have lots of cousins.’

‘My father disagrees with the idea of taking a consort from outside one’s Court,’ Draco said, pushing aside a fern.

‘Does he now?’ Harry’s voice sounded cold.

Draco said nothing, certain that mentioning tradition and the correct way of doing things would annoy Harry. Perhaps his father was right about the Summer Court and their _progressive_ manners, if they’ve taken up with Fae from other realms.

Glancing at Harry ahead of him, sure-footed and tall, his breeches snug on his legs, Draco thought that perhaps that wasn’t such a bad idea.

Soon the woods around them filled with shadows, the canopy above blocking the sun. An eerie silence spread when they crossed a murmuring stream that vanished once they were over it. No birds sang or insects buzzed, the rustling of the tree branches the only sound. Draco felt the hair at the back of his neck rise; his wings spread a little, as if preparing for flight.

‘We’re here,’ Harry said and motioned him to crouch next to him behind an oak. ‘The Grey Spiders’ nests are over there.’ He pointed at the white mist ahead. Not mist: spider silk hanging from the trees in thick translucent drapes.

‘They say if you steal a Grey Spider’s silk, it’ll grant you a wish to retrieve it,’ Draco whispered.

Harry grinned, his eyes bright in the gloom. ‘Draco of the Winter Lords, you wanted an adventure? How about we have one?’

 

Ten minutes later they pelted through the trees, panting, as branches behind them groaned and creaked under the weight of the enormous creature after them. Draco, his hands covered with a silk bundle, zigzagged through the trees, his lungs gasping for air but every nerve in his body burning alive.

‘This way,’ Harry called from his right and Draco swerved, missing the creature’s pincers by a few inches, and burst through a wall of ivy between two trees. The spider followed, tearing down the ivy a second later. A second which was enough for Harry to have taken position, curls of magic spiraling golden around his fingers, creating a barrier. Draco had flown over him, holding the silk out of reach.

The spider raised its many dark eyes to Draco overhead and wailed, pushing against the invisible barrier Harry had created. When it realised it was trapped, it stilled. Its mean eyes looked at them as Draco landed beside Harry.

‘What’ll it take for me to have my silk back?’ the spider said in a high voice. Draco shivered.

‘We want you to grant us a wish,’ Harry said.

‘My wishes bring misery,’ the spider warned.

‘Do you think we’re fools?’ Harry asked, and Draco smirked at the spider. ‘A wish means something we _want_ to happen.’

‘Ignore me at your peril, young Fae. What’s the wish?’ the spider asked.

Draco gazed at Harry, who looked back. They hadn’t planned that far ahead. Stealing the silk had been worth it, Draco thought, for the excitement of the chase and the way his heart beat fast in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Harry said nothing either. He brushed his sweaty hair back, his face flushed with exertion, and he beamed at Draco. A thought passed through Draco’s brain, fleeting like a butterfly. He wondered what it’d be like to—

The spider spoke. ‘Your wish is granted. Give me my silk.’

‘What?’ Harry asked. ‘We haven’t made a request.’

‘You have. The wish needn’t be spoken out loud,’ the spider screeched, clicking its pincers. ‘The silk!’

Draco’s cheeks burned as he considered what the spider might have considered a wish. He reluctantly handed the silk back, while Harry, red in the face but obstinate, asked, ‘Whose wish did you grant?’

The spider retreated with its bundle. ‘You’ll see.’ Draco could swear it said it with glee.

They remained still, listening to the spider’s progress through the forest. Draco scuffed his toe on the ground. ‘Wish or not, it was still great fun.’

Harry smiled back. ‘It was, wasn’t it?’

Behind them a stream flowed and they crossed it and trudged on until the trees became sparser and the light fell slanted and green through the trees. Harry climbed one to pick some red, ripe fruit, which he shared with Draco. Draco had never eaten it before; it tasted sharp and sweet. Juice ran down Draco’s chin as he bit into it, and he caught Harry glancing at him as he licked his lips and his sticky fingers.

The idea that the spider might grant his fleeting thought lit a fire in Draco’s insides. He couldn’t help glancing at Harry’s lips and his teeth ripping into the fruit, and the way his eyes softened when he glanced at Draco. Draco had no clue if the wish might be fulfilled soon. The idea caused his stomach to flip with nerves and torturous anticipation.

They’d reached a pleasant clearing, bright and lush, where a pool had formed shaded by three willow trees. Harry sprawled in the shade, limbs akimbo, and closed his eyes. Draco sat near him, watching him. He’d never imagined he’d find a Fae of another realm attractive, and certainly not one of the Summer Court, but now that his pulse had calmed and the excitement had settled, all he could think about was kissing Harry. Just the once. Just to see what it was like.

Harry disrupted these thoughts by standing and undressing.

‘What are you doing?’ Draco spluttered.

‘I’m going to cool down in the water,’ Harry said. He glanced at Draco’s high collar and long sleeves. ‘Might be a good idea for you, too. You’re hot.’ He coughed. ‘I mean, you look hot. Er, warm. You look warm.’ Cheeks red, Harry bent his head, intent on the laces of his breeches.

To say that Draco felt like he was self-combusting was an understatement. He didn’t make a move to undress, though; not until Harry had removed his clothing and said, a challenge in his voice, ‘Don’t you folk in the Winter Court ever take your clothes off?’

Draco stood, studiously avoiding Harry’s nudity. ‘Of course we do.’ _In the privacy of our bedrooms_ , he wanted to add but didn’t, and untied the laces of his breeches. Sneaking a side glance, he watched Harry enter the pool, the water lapping around his bare arse. Mouth dry as chalk, Draco continued undressing.

Nudity wasn’t a big deal in the Summer Court. The Summer Fae swam naked in the sea, said the rumours, even the High Lord James and his Consort and the rest of the lords. _Animals_ , Draco’s father always commented when that topic came up.

‘The water is lovely,’ Harry called.

Draco raised his eyes just as he let his last piece of clothing fall on the grass. In his land, nudity was reserved for lovers, and he knew he was blushing all over as he made his way to the pool. Harry’s eyes darkened at the sight of Draco entering the clear water, golden curls of magic swirling around his olive skin. The reaction pleased Draco even as it made his heart gallop and his chest tight.

Draco folded his wings and swam to Harry. They gazed at each other over the surface of the water as the ripples disappeared and the pool stilled. The sounds of the forest seemed distant.

‘I don’t find you as terrifying as the rumours say,’ Harry said.

‘I, on the other hand, find you exactly as crude as the rumours say.’ Draco smiled to take the sting off his words and Harry splashed him in mock outrage.

Draco retaliated, and a fight broke out, filling the clearing with yells and laughter and the sound of splashing water — a fight which became physical as each grabbed the other, trying to shove him underwater. The mood shifted, their grapples turned into fevered caresses, and Draco found himself in Harry’s arms, glancing at his slick face. His eyes flicked from Harry’s rapt gaze to his parted lips and he swallowed hard. Harry tilted his head up, offering his mouth, and Draco took it, slowly at first, tasting the pool water and the fruit on Harry’s lips, and then sliding his tongue deeper. Harry clutched his shoulders, bringing him closer, and they kissed, hands in each other’s hair and backs, Draco’s legs around Harry’s hips as they floated in the pool.

Draco pulled his mouth away to kiss Harry’s jaw. ‘My wish came true,’ he murmured.

Harry chuckled. ‘So did mine.’

Surprised and delighted, Draco met Harry’s eyes, warmth unfurling inside him, flooding his entire body. How could this ever be a misery? The Spider was trying to trick them into giving up the bundle. Draco pulled Harry in for another slow, deep kiss which turned filthy, their skin sliding against each other’s, Draco’s hold of Harry slippery.

‘Want to leave the pool?’ Harry rasped.

On the soft grass they clung to each other with renewed fervour. Harry kissed him under the willow tree, his hips rolling against Draco’s, his cock heavy and beautiful, leaving glistening streaks on Draco’s stomach. The desire to kiss Harry everywhere overwhelmed Draco and he rolled them over. Propped over Harry, Draco licked his nipple, sucking the tight bud in his mouth and enjoying the symphony of sighs coming from Harry. Lower and lower his mouth went until the sighs became moans, until Harry writhed on the ground, fingers digging in the soil, until with a last swirl of Draco’s tongue and a sneaky finger rubbing the entrance of Harry’s arse Draco brought Harry to a climax.

Harry quivered under him, sweaty and warm and completely dazed. Draco stroked his face, and touched his antlers with a careful hand. He sunk his fingers in Harry’s hair and brought him closer for a long, lingering kiss.

‘You…’ Harry rasped, and he wrapped his hand around Draco’s cock.

Draco relaxed in his touch, feeling his magic steam out of skin, silver-white and diamond-bright. ‘Touch my wings,’ he breathed.

Harry used his free hand to caress his white feathers and Draco shivered, his eyes shutting at the intense wave of pleasure. The feathers fluttered in the wake of Harry’s hand, sending sparks of lust through Draco’s veins.

‘Again,’ he asked.

‘They’re so soft,’ Harry murmured, his hand stroking the wings from shoulder to tip. He nosed at Draco’s cheek, lips brushing at his jaw, his neck, the shell of his ear.

A quick exploration by Draco told him that Harry was getting hard again. Draco shifted, pressed down on Harry, and lined their cocks together. They both became a heaving mass, legs tangled, hips rising and falling, mouths catching on lips and skin and fingers, sighs and moans mixing with the birdsong until they both came, one after the other, holding each other tight.

Afterwards, Harry held him and spoke to him about his home and his life, rambling little things. Draco couldn’t stop smiling. He lay on Harry’s chest, wondering how soon they could have another go, when the sound of flapping wings intruded in the peace of the clearing.

‘What—?’ Harry asked, but Draco, familiar with the sound, had jumped back. Within seconds, six stern warriors had landed on the grass, gazing impassively at the two young Fae. They parted to reveal a seventh one: tall and pale with black, leathery wings and a crown made from obsidian.

Draco’s father.

‘Draco, what in the name of the Seven Stars _are_ you doing?’ Lucius asked, cold fury etched on the lines of his face.

Draco grabbed his clothing from the ground and covered his modesty. ‘Nothing, I just—’ He wasn’t sure what there was to say, and hurriedly tugged his breeches on.

His father examined Harry and pursed his lips in distaste before turning to Draco. ‘It isn’t enough that you flout the rules and sneak into the Spring Court during the Passing, knowing the trouble this will cause in our diplomatic relations. It isn’t enough that you disobey my direct orders not to leave our realm. No, you have to… _dally_ with a boy from the Summer Court…’

‘Not just a boy,’ Harry said, rising and fumbling with his clothes. ‘The son of the High Lord.’

‘And you think that makes it all right?’ Casting his cold gaze at Draco, Lucius gestured impatiently. ‘Come before we’re seen.’

Draco hesitated. He hadn’t thought, not once this bright day, that he might not see Harry again. He hadn’t considered the implications of their circumstances as he rushed, drunk with adventure and dazed with lust, into Harry’s arms. The Autumn Court opened its doors to Winter, and the Winter to Spring and so on, but never in the eternal cycle of the Passing of the Flame did the Winter and the Summer Courts come in any contact.

‘Draco!’ His father’s voice lashed like a whip.

Trembling, Draco cast a last look at Harry and his swollen lips and warm eyes, wishing he’d had time. Days and days and days to spend with Harry, but he had none; he only had this one and now it was over.

Harry’s eyes shone with an emotion Draco couldn’t bear. He spread his wings and took to the sky.

 

* * *

 

The Spider had been right; the wish brought abject misery to Draco. After enduring a thorough dressing-down by his father, a month’s penance in the ice caves and the threat to have his wings clipped, Draco spent his time in his bedroom.

‘Tell me about the Summer Court,’ he’d ask his geography tutor, but his father must have spoken to her, because she declined.

‘We need to concentrate on our topic, which today is: Faerie minerals. Spring has the most valuable: diamonds, sapphires, emeralds and the like. Autumn, however, is rich in gold…’

And so the months passed and the weather turned warm, then cold again, and Draco spent his days bent over books and his nights gazing at the stars.

‘Perhaps you could take a lover,’ Draco’s mother suggested over dinner. She named a few of the High Fae in the court. ‘Marcus has grown into a very fine Fae.’

‘I will,’ Draco murmured. ‘If they bring me some Grey Spider’s silk.’

‘Nonsense.’ His father frowned with displeasure, but Draco kept his eyes on his venison and ignored him.

 

It snowed the day the Winter Lords would travel to Autumn Court to receive the Flame. High Lord Lucius took Draco aside in the frosty courtyard as they were setting out. ‘I don’t need to remind you that I’ll have your wings clipped if you misbehave, Draco.’

Draco stared back coldly. ‘I’ve no desire to throw myself in the arms of any of Lord Arthur’s offspring. I don’t like their tails.’

‘Be that as it may, you’re my Heir and I expect you to act accordingly.’ Snowflakes danced around his father’s face as he said, ‘Oh and I’ve chosen a Consort for you. Regulus, son of our border allies.’

A fist squeezed Draco’s chest. ‘Do I get a say in it?’

Lucius met his eyes. ‘No.’

The Autumn Court, splendid in rusty reds and amber yellows, welcomed them with the usual honours and rituals: the partaking of raw deer; the exchange of three gifts, one to be alive; the elaborate curtseys and droning speeches. Draco stood by his mother, holding on to a semblance of composure because if he didn’t, he’d shatter. The talks between the Lords went on and on; stifling a yawn, Draco raised his eyes to see an antlered head peering through the window.

Excusing himself, Draco walked slowly out of the room, ran to the gardens, and bumped into the irritating son of the Autumn Lord, who said, ‘Come with me.’

‘I’m busy.’ Draco tried to walk past him, but Ron stopped him with a hand on his chest.

‘Wanna see Harry?’

His pulse galloping, Draco followed Ron to the woods where a tall figure was kicking crunchy russet leaves. Harry turned at the sound of their approach, and a smile lit up his lovely face. With two long strides, Draco ran inside his open arms and held him tight.

He’d no idea how long they stayed like this, but at some point Harry pulled back and brushed Draco’s hair from his face. ‘Missed you. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.’

‘Missed you, too.’ Draco kissed Harry. Slow and sweet and very soft, the kiss thawed Draco, warming his limbs, his chest and his groin. ‘My father’s making me take a consort,’ he added, the gloom returning in his heart. ‘I’m glad you came to see me but—’

‘I didn’t come to see you.’ Harry stroked Draco's hair off his face, his eyes bright and intense. ‘I came to take you away.’

Draco let out a gasp. The possibility brought shivers down his spine and along his wings. Surely, they couldn't, could they?

‘We’re both Heirs,’ Draco reminded him.

‘Until it’s time to rule, we don’t need to be here. Fancy going to the mortal realm for a _real_ adventure?’

‘The mortals?!’ Draco laughed. ‘You must be mad.’

‘I am.’ Harry pulled him in for another kiss. ‘Mad for you.’


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I asked people on tumblr to prompt me **[Before During After drabbles](http://magpiefngrl.tumblr.com/post/174033904500/before-during-after-drabbles)**. An anon asked for: [After + The Spider's Silk](http://magpiefngrl.tumblr.com/post/182957149387/idk-if-youre-still-doing-this-im-late-to-the). The "drabble" turned into 1.5k, as my drabbles are wont to do :))

It felt good to be  _mad_  and in Harry’s arms in the auburn Autumn Court woods, drunk with possibility for the future and for adventure, but Ron, keeping an eye out for onlookers, his tail nervously whipping the ground, had to go and rain on their parade.

‘If you’re finished with that,’ Ron said, interrupting Harry’s murmuring of sweet words in Draco’s ear, ‘you might want to have a think about escaping to the mortal realm and all. Not as easy as you think.’

Harry turned to his friend, his arms still wrapped tight around Draco. ‘There’s a barrier. We can simply step through it.’

Ron shook his head. ‘You need to speak to my brother.’

* * *

 ‘You can’t go to the mortal realm by simply stepping through the barrier,’ Bill told them later that evening when they sneaked into his private rooms.

Bill was the Autumn Court Heir, tall, red-haired and freckled like his siblings, with a tail that was twice as strong and powerful as Ron’s.  _The Mark of an Heir_ , Draco’s father had told him once: Heirs displayed a more prominent feature than the other elves of their race. Draco’s wings were brighter and stronger than everyone else’s in the Winter realm and, from what he’d seen of the Autumn Court, Bill’s tail was second only to his father’s, the King.

‘I don’t see why not,’ Harry objected to Bill’s bad news. ‘Surely Fae pass through it all the time.’

Consulting Bill had been Ron’s idea, who Harry had apparently befriended; his ability to bestow his friendship to everyone as if it was an inexhaustible gift surprised Draco. His father’s instructions to trust no one, except—possibly—his future Consort, still rang in his ears. But here they were, safe and in hiding due to the charity of those who Harry had made friends and who were willing to put themselves on the line to help the two of them elope.

‘You sure it’s wise?’ Ron whispered to Harry when Bill went to ring for refreshments. ‘You only met the once.’

‘I’m sure,’ Harry whispered back, glancing surreptitiously at Draco, who pretended to examine the gold streaks in the marble floors, glinting in the firelight. ‘And if I’m wrong, well—’

 _Well, what?_  Draco wanted to ask, his heart thumping in his chest. He’d never felt anything like what he’d felt in the presence of Harry; that pull towards him, the desire to feel his lips on his again, the thrill of experiencing life in a different way than he’d learned from his father. A way that invited joy rather than discipline. The months they’d been separated had been a unique agony for Draco; an icy numbness had settled in his bones, leeching warmth and hope and light until his life resembled the freezing, grey wasteland that surrounded their palace on Erebos. This wasn’t an adventure for him, this was  _life or death_ , and a cold dread squatted on his chest that perhaps— perhaps Harry only wanted an adventure. A dalliance. A fun, little fling till he returned to his Court to pursue another Consort.

The possibility of this was too dreadful to imagine so he turned his attention back to Bill, who’d returned with a tray of amber wine and pumpkin delicacies. ‘There are rituals to be conducted,’ Bill said, once he had everyone’s attention again, ‘at exact places where the barriers that separate us from the mortals are thinner. I know my younger brothers tried to cross several times’—Draco had heard of the Autumn Court twins often being described as a  _menace_ — ‘and I know they failed every time. Percy will know—he’s a scholar. I’ll ask him, but rest assured I won’t divulge a thing about the two of you. None of my other siblings will be able to keep a secret of this magnitude safe, and I fear Ginny will want to follow you.’

‘I want to follow them too,’ Ron said. ‘The mortals! What it must be like, eh!’

Bill smiled wistfully. ‘Me too. But we can’t leave. We can take them to the barrier, though; ensure they’re safely through, if you’re up for a little mission, little brother.’

* * *

 

So, their merry band of two became four. Draco wasn’t sure how in the space of one day he’d gone from being forced into an arranged marriage to planning to elope to the Mortal realm with the help of the Autumn Court kids he’d always looked down on. Life had a way of turning one’s life upside down in the blink of an eye.

Bill stood up, signalling the end of their meeting. ‘For now, it’s best if you take one of my guest rooms. No one will come in without my express permission.’

Draco had told everyone he was coming down with scarlet fever; a strategy that would keep his father, a notorious germophobe, well away from his room for the duration of their visit. Harry thanked Bill for his help, murmured something to Ron, who left after a final, suspicious glance at Draco, and the two of them retreated to the room Bill showed them to.

When the door shut behind them, an awkward silence spread between them. Harry busied himself with lighting the candles and Draco, unsure what to do, walked to the huge four-poster bed. He stroked the red satin cover and glanced surreptitiously at Harry, who concerned himself now with lighting the fire—and making a poor job of it.

Draco crouched beside him. ‘They’ll be looking for us,’ he said, flicking a tendril of his magic towards the wood. The fire caught and crackled.

Harry sighed and stood. ‘I know. There’ll be trouble.’ He glanced at Draco who had risen, stretching a hand to caress his cheek. His palm was warm on Draco’s skin, comforting. The firelight danced on his tanned skin. ‘I don’t see another way, though. I can’t imagine you having to go back to your Court, me to mine, and never seeing each other again.’

‘I can’t imagine taking a Consort that isn’t you. I—’ Draco paused, his fear looming large between them. How did you let the other person know that you’ve decided: that he was  _it_. Winter Fae were made of unshakable stuff, their nature was immutable—once they made a commitment it was final, unlike the fickle nature of the other Courts. Or so his father had said.

Draco was learning now that his father had been wrong quite a lot.

‘What did you want to say?’ Harry asked.

Revealing the enormity of his feelings wasn’t something that Draco felt ready for. He couldn’t bear the thought of hearing that Harry didn’t share the same depth of affection. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he said instead, which was true.

Harry’s hand found Draco’s waist and pulled him closer to him. He spoke, his lips brushing Draco’s gently. ‘I did, too. Missed you so much I—’ But he didn’t finish his sentence either, but instead kissed Draco fervently.

The kiss was better than Draco remembered. Harry smelled like sunlight; he tasted warm and sweet like summer fruit. Draco’s wings fluttered and spread in delight, knocking down an ornament from a side table.

‘You’re not made for indoors,’ Harry laughed, and his antlers caught in the chandelier.

Draco snorted. ‘Neither are you.’

No more words were spoken that night, their caresses and touches keeping Draco’s fears away, shoving them out of sight. In their place was  _hope_ ; and trust in Harry’s loving touches and his devastating kisses; trust in the look of his eyes as he gazed at Draco.

They slept in each other’s arms some time before dawn after reacquainting themselves with each other’s bodies and woke up to a gentle knock. It was time to reconvene over a hearty breakfast with their other two conspirators.

‘I’ve got good and bad news,’ Bill said. ‘The good news is that there is a way to get the mortal realm. It requires burning four offerings near what it’s called a Soft Spot. All Courts have a couple of those.’

‘Don’t people start with the bad news?’ Draco wondered aloud, but Bill ignored him.

‘The bad news is that these offerings have to be  _royal_  Fae objects. Something that belongs to the Lords of the Courts or their Heirs. Anything you own counts, and I can provide something of mine. However, that means…’

‘That means we have to go back to Spring Court,’ Draco said.

Bill nodded. ‘And seek the help of the Lady of Spring, or her daughter. We’ll leave tonight. The Passing concludes in two days, and you’—he pointed at Draco— ‘need to be at the mortal realm before your father realises you’re not in bed with scarlet fever.’

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on [tumblr](http://magpiefngrl.tumblr.com/) if you wanna come say hi :)
> 
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